TRAIGS - Chapter 752

On the blood-soaked sand of the arena, stained red by countless battles, a host in a blue suit stepped forward.

“Thank you for waiting!”

He bent his waist playfully, prompting the spectators to roar like wild animals, demanding the fight to start.

“You’re as impatient as ever, my esteemed guests. Fine, I’m not one for idle chatter either, so let’s get started.”

The host spread his arms, a grin curling on his lips as he relished the audience’s response.

“Let me introduce the first match of the day. A powerhouse with three consecutive victories since entering the arena! The mighty Lion Fighter, Gamurin!”

As the introduction ended, the iron door on the left creaked open, and a muscular youth over two meters tall stepped forward.

His footsteps were so heavy that they left deep imprints in the sand.

“Raaaaah!”

Gamurin let out a ferocious roar, exuding a chilling presence that sent shivers down spines despite his lack of aura.

“His opponent is stepping into the arena for the first time today. The Bloodthirsty Female Fighter who devours her opponent’s fists! Maran!”

At the host’s gesture, the iron door on the right opened, and Martha, her hair dyed red, stepped out.

In contrast to Gamurin, she walked calmly to the center of the arena.

“Boooo!”

“This is such an obvious mismatch!”

“Who set up this pathetic pairing?”

“Trying to scam us again, huh?”

“How can anyone bet on this?”

The crowd hurled insults and even bottles of alcohol at Martha and the arena.

“This is going to be boring,” Gamurin muttered as he looked down at Martha, frowning.

“Why are these idiots so loud?”

Martha snorted, annoyed by the chatter.

“This little rat!”

“Haaaaah…”

She ignored Gamurin’s provocation, yawning long and loud instead.

“Hey!” Gamurin ground his teeth and turned to the host.

“Start it already! I’ll give you the spectacle you’re looking for!”

He clenched his fist, veins bulging, and vowed to crush Martha’s neck.

“Then, let the first match of the day begin!”

The host lowered his hand, and Gamurin charged forward, swinging his massive fist with full force, intent on obliterating Martha.

BOOM!

Martha didn’t dodge. She stood her ground, taking Gamurin’s punch head-on.

“Huh…”

Gamurin trembled as he realized she hadn’t moved an inch.

“Was that a mosquito bite?”

Wiping a trickle of blood from her lip, Martha smirked.

“Now it’s my turn, isn’t it?”

She ground her teeth and threw her punch.

BOOM!

Gamurin, struck in the face, was sent flying like a kicked ball, rolling across the ground.

“Urgh…”

He groaned in pain, unable to rise.

“It’s not over yet, is it?”

Smiling with a hint of bloodlust, Martha pummeled Gamurin relentlessly, battering him until he lay limp in a pool of blood.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The sand turned an even darker shade of red, and Gamurin collapsed, his body beaten beyond recognition.

The once chaotic arena fell silent, as if it had turned into a library.

“M-Maran wins!”

Even the host, who hadn’t anticipated such a result, stammered as he raised Martha’s hand.

“Wooooah!”

Finally, the audience erupted in cheers, regardless of whether they had lost or won money. These were roars of admiration from those who lived for the thrill of battle.

“Shut up already!”

Martha waved her hand dismissively, as if annoyed, and headed back through the gate she had entered from.

‘Impressive.’

Raon shook his head as he watched Martha leave. He had expected her to do well, but she had exceeded all expectations.

Gamurin, her opponent, was from the Beast Alliance, known for being unmatched in physical strength. For her to defeat such a monster without using aura—it was certain to draw the attention of the Sword Master of the Holy Sword Alliance and the Black Tower’s Floor Lord.

– D-Did she pick the wrong profession? Shouldn’t she be the Beef Girl?

Wrath blinked, as if agreeing that this suited her better.

‘You might be right.’

Raon thought that Martha would make a fitting queen of this arena, ruling it with an iron fist.

“Here, take this.”

As Raon and Wrath bantered, an arena staff member handed him a black glass bottle. It was the poison Denning Rose had mentioned, meant to erase aura.

Raon nodded and drank it. Within a minute, all traces of aura had vanished from his body.

‘But…’

He could neutralize it. Without even invoking Wrath, the power of his Ring of Fire was enough to purify the poison entirely.

‘I could launch an ambush right away.’

With no aura, the Floor Lord and Sword Master would likely drop their guard, making them easy targets for a surprise attack.

“It’s done.”

The arena staff confirmed Raon’s lack of aura and signaled the host.

“While the excitement from the first match hasn’t faded, let’s begin the second match! A fighter on a six-win streak, the Lightning-Speed Karam!”

At the host’s announcement, an elderly man with a grasshopper-like physique stepped into the arena. Despite his slow pace, his movements carried the distinct air of a seasoned expert.

“And his challenger, a newcomer who’s bound to astonish us! The Black Fox, Amon!”

Hearing his alias, Raon entered the arena.

– Hehehe!

Wrath chuckled as he eyed Raon’s dyed black hair.

– A fox, huh? It suits you perfectly!

Wrath beamed as if it was the most fitting nickname ever.

“Hmm…”

Raon ran his hand through his black hair, a nostalgic expression crossing his face.

‘This brings back memories.’

With black hair, he felt as though he had returned to his previous life. Determined to fight more aggressively, he flexed his wrists.

“Kid, shouldn’t you go home and drink some more milk?”

Karam taunted, sticking out his tongue mockingly.

“Old man, have you prepared your grave?”

Raon grinned, looking up at Karam.

“Not that it matters. You’ll end up weathered into the ground here anyway.”

“You little…”

“You ancient fool?”

Unlike Martha, who kept her composure, Raon deliberately mocked his opponent with exaggerated disdain.

“Krrrr…”

Karam’s face flushed red with anger, humiliated by Raon’s taunts.

“Hahaha! Things are heating up even before the fight starts!”

The host laughed gleefully and raised his hand.

“Let’s begin the second match!”

As soon as he lowered his hand, Karam sprang into action. Despite not using aura, his footwork was faster than most swordsmen, dashing wildly across the arena.

“Too late for regrets now. I’ll break your bones and bury you in the sand!”

With a sinister grin, Karam aimed a sharp thrust at Raon’s left chest.

‘Whoosh!’

Raon effortlessly evaded the attack with a slight twist of his ankle.

“W-what…”

Karam’s eyes widened in disbelief, unable to comprehend how his attack had missed.

“Save the dancing for the retirement home.”

Raon struck Karam’s abdomen with a clean punch.

“Ugh!”

Karam coughed up blood as he tumbled across the ground, though he managed to rise slowly, showing resilience despite the blow.

– Why didn’t you finish him in one strike?

‘I’ll take a different approach from Martha.’

While Martha had overwhelmed her opponent with raw power and brutality, Raon decided to showcase speed and precision as his strengths.

“You brat!”

Karam accelerated, charging at Raon. Raon sidestepped his thrusts with ease and countered with quick strikes to his chest and thigh.

“Urk!”

Karam bent over, trembling from the blows, though his sturdy frame kept him from collapsing completely.

“Should’ve stuck to watching your grandkids play instead of seeking trouble.”

Raon snorted as he looked down at Karam.

“You little punk!”

Grinding his teeth, Karam lunged forward. His arms jabbed alternately like a mantis’s claws, the movements so fast they blurred.

‘Thwack!’

Without retreating, Raon grabbed both of Karam’s wrists.

“Wha—?”

Karam’s eyes bulged in shock, unable to believe his wrists had been caught.

“Next time, pick your fights wisely.”

Raon smirked and delivered a sharp kick to Karam’s chin with the tip of his foot.

‘Thud!’

Karam spat blood as he was flung backward, landing upside down in the sand.

“A-Amon wins!”

The host, regaining his composure faster this time, announced Raon’s victory.

“Woooooo!”

“This is better than the main event!”

“These newcomers are incredible!”

“Where did they come from?”

The audience cheered enthusiastically, pumping their fists in the air. Even those who had lost money seemed to enjoy the fight, clearly addicted to the thrill of combat.

– Is this really okay?

Martha, grinding her teeth, shook her head.

“What’s taking them so long to show up?”

“You’ve already surpassed the champion in popularity.”

Raon tilted his head. Martha had gained immense fame in the arena due to her ferocious fighting style and striking appearance, even eclipsing the reigning champion.

“You’re no different!”

Martha scowled at Raon.

“Your trash-talking has earned you even more crazy fans!”

“Not as much as you. Your matches are always sold out.”

Raon shrugged nonchalantly.

“Champion, my foot! I just want to swing my sword!”

Wrath shuddered as he watched Karam being dragged away, broken and bloodied.

‘It’s fine. They’re all villains here.’

Raon waved dismissively, noting that no one in this place was remotely sane.

– Still…

Wrath squinted.

– You seem like the biggest villain of all.

It had been a month and a half since they entered Holam.

Thanks to the ample time, the Light Wind Division had settled in without suspicion. Yet neither the Sword Master of the Holy Sword Alliance nor the Black Tower’s Floor Lord had shown themselves.

“At this rate, I’ll actually end up being champion!”

Martha ruffled her hair in frustration, wanting to train properly instead of wasting time.

“Rimmer! That guy’s out drinking and gambling at the tavern, and we’re stuck here!”

She bit her lip, envying Rimmer, who was disguised and enjoying himself while they were on edge.

“Just a little longer. If they don’t show up in two weeks, we’ll pull out.”

They couldn’t linger indefinitely, so it was decided they would switch with the next team in two weeks, regardless of whether anything happened.

‘Knock, knock.’

As Raon tried to calm Martha down, a knock came at the door.

“Are you there?”

It was Dorian, bowing deeply as he entered, still disguised as an arena staff member.

“What is it?”

Martha’s voice turned cold, wary of who else might be outside.

“The manager has requested your presence.”

Dorian chuckled, relieved he didn’t need to deliver the message himself.

“Understood.”

“Another fight?”

Raon and Martha patted Dorian’s shoulder and headed upstairs.

“Welcome.”

Oberyn, the host and manager of the arena, bowed respectfully.

“What’s the matter?”

Raon flicked his hand at Oberyn.

“The master wishes to see you.”

Despite their consecutive victories, they had yet to meet the arena’s owner. Now, it seemed things were finally shifting.

“Why doesn’t he come here himself?”

Martha scowled, clearly unimpressed.

“Haha, I assure you, you won’t regret going.”

Oberyn gestured cautiously toward the top floor of the arena.

“Let’s go. I hate wasting time.”

Raon muttered curtly and started up the stairs.

“Hmph.”

Martha snorted and reluctantly followed.

“Please, enter.”

Oberyn opened the door to the top floor, revealing a massive, opulent room that defied the chaotic nature of the arena.

The walls were coated in pure gold, priceless paintings and swords adorned each pillar, and an array of gemstones sparkled like flowers in a garden.

It looked less like a lawless arena and more like the royal palace of a kingdom.

“Welcome.”

A man seated at the center of the room stroked his chin. Rings with various glittering gems adorned all his fingers.

“I am Tugui.”

The man, who introduced himself as Tugui, exuded a fierce aura despite the extravagance surrounding him.

‘So that’s Tugui….’

Once a promising knight of Owen, this man had betrayed his comrades and fled, consumed by greed. Now, he had become a monstrous figure in this wasteland known as Tugui.

‘He’s strong.’

Raon had expected Tugui to have grown weak from indulgence, but the presence radiating from him was far beyond what he had anticipated.

Though Raon couldn’t gauge the exact extent of Tugui’s power without aura, it was clear that he was at least a high-level Grand Master.

“What’s your reason for summoning us?”

Martha narrowed her eyes as she addressed Tugui.

“Have a seat, first.”

Tugui gestured casually, offering them seats.

“Tsk.”

“How troublesome.”

Raon and Martha frowned but sat down, one to Tugui’s left and the other to his right.

“Thanks to you two, I’ve been earning an overwhelming amount of money. I thought a word of gratitude was in order. And…”

Tugui licked his lips and spread his hands.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

Raon narrowed his eyes as he looked at Tugui.

“I’m planning to hold a large-scale match this weekend. I want the two of you to headline it.”

Tugui grinned as he pointed at Raon and Martha.

“It will be an all-in match, where the winner takes everything. Even VIPs will gather to watch it.”

He laughed, promising mountains of wealth to be made.

“That’s no different from what happens every day here.”

“No, the reward is different. The winner of this match will receive ten percent of the total profits.”

Tugui fiddled with a gem-encrusted ring, claiming it would be enough money to live lavishly for a lifetime.

“Give it everything you’ve got. After all, the fight won’t end until one of you dies.”

His golden eyes gleamed like coins as he said this.

“So that’s why we haven’t fought each other yet.”

Martha furrowed her brow, realizing why she and Raon had been kept apart until now.

“You two reeked of money. I couldn’t waste gems like you on minor matches.”

Tugui nodded as though this were obvious.

“I don’t like the sound of this VIP audience.”

Raon glared at Tugui, his brows knitting together.

“You’re asking us to put on a show for a bunch of rich snobs in fancy clothes?”

“These aren’t ordinary spectators. They’re the ones who have real money to spend.”

“Real money?”

“Well, the fight might not be their primary interest, but I don’t like being underestimated.”

Tugui struck the platinum table with his large hand, asking them to put on a proper show for the distinguished guests.

‘It’s them. I’m certain of it.’

Hearing Tugui’s words, Raon became convinced that the “VIPs” arriving this weekend would be the Black Tower’s Floor Lord and the Sword Master of the Holy Sword Alliance.

“I’m in. I’ve wanted to kill that bastard with my own hands.”

Martha’s bloodshot eyes made it clear that she wasn’t joking.

“I’m in as well. There’s no other reason to put up with this otherwise.”

Raon nodded, glancing at Martha’s ferocious expression.

“I like how straightforward you two are!”

Tugui laughed, as if he had expected this response, and clapped his hands.

“As a token of appreciation, allow me to treat you tonight!”

At his command, the doors opened, and servants brought in lavish food and drink.

– Ooh, this guy seems like a good person!

Wrath smacked his lips, enticed by the sight of free food.

“Enjoy to your heart’s content.”

Tugui raised his own drink and let out an exaggerated laugh.

‘A good person?’

Raon tasted the overly glossy food and drink, letting out a cold chuckle.

‘No, he’s not a good person. He’s someone we need to kill.’

– What are you talking about?

‘The food and drink are poisoned.’

– P-Poison?!

Wrath shuddered in surprise.

‘Not just any poison. This one induces madness.’

The dishes Tugui provided contained ‘Blood Madness Grass’, a substance that gradually built up in the body, turning one into a blood-crazed monster over time. While a small amount was harmless, continued consumption would strip anyone of their sanity.

‘I should’ve known from the moment he promised ten percent of the profits.’

A miser like Tugui would never willingly part with his money. It was clear that he wanted both Raon and Martha to fight to the death.

‘I’ve made my decision.’

Raon tore into a drumstick with a savage smile.

‘I’ll erase Tugui as well.’

As soon as the banquet ended and dawn broke, Raon informed Denning Rose of the situation.

“You’re right.”

Denning Rose quickly nodded.

“Judging by the movements of the Holy Sword Alliance and the Black Tower, it’s definitely happening this weekend.”

She marked the map of Holam with the symbols of the Holy Sword Alliance and the Black Tower.

“Who’s coming?”

“Well…”

Denning Rose let out a long sigh, pointing at the two marks.

“The Black Tower is sending Mara Lord, while the Holy Sword Alliance is dispatching the White Ghost Sword Master.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she continued.

“Both of them are high-level or peak Grand Masters.”

Denning Rose exhaled shakily, describing the dire situation they were facing.

“We didn’t expect monsters of this level to move. Should we request reinforcements—”

“No.”

Raon shook his head firmly.

“We’ll handle this ourselves.”

“What? But if you count Tugui, that makes three high-level Grand Masters! And their subordinates aren’t average either—they’re numerous and skilled!”

Denning Rose’s voice quivered as she argued that it would be impossible for the Light Wind Division to manage alone.

“If we can’t overcome this, we have no place in future battles.”

If the Light Wind Division failed this mission, they would remain mere side players in the war against Derus.

This mission was the decisive point that would determine the division’s standing.

“Then who will handle the three Grand Masters?”

“The Vice-Captain will take one.”

“But that still leaves two…”

Denning Rose trailed off, her fingers trembling as she considered the odds.

“I’ll cut them down myself.”

Raon placed his hand on the hilt of his Heavenly Drive, his eyes blazing with intensity stronger than the rising sun.